Identity Theft
by Ocianne
Summary: In which Kudo loses a few last hopes, and goes further into Kaitou Kid's head than he ever anticipated. Now a series, as the fallout settles and things don't -quite- fade into the dark. Complete.
1. Identity Theft

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine. Beware the first person perspective, and the alternate universality…

Summary: In which Kudou loses a few last hopes, and goes further into the Kid's head than he ever anticipated.

AN: Written for a ficswap at manycases1truth livejournal community… crackfic, in all likelihood. Enjoy.

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Identity Theft

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_What do you do if your last link to normalcy is stolen from you, and the thief can't even realize what he's done?_

The last Kaitou Kid heist that ever occurred, he had been posing as me again—Shin'ichi, that is—before he disappeared to perpetrate the theft. Annoying, but, all things considered, I could live with it.

During the escape, an assassin's bullet must have caught him a glancing blow to the head, because the next I heard of him was when several hours later a hospital called the Mouri home. A boy with the identification of Kudou Shin'ichi had been found collapsed just outside the ER, wounded and unconscious.

The guy had been carrying a copy of my school ID.

He woke up pretty fast, to a crying Ran at his bedside, and regained his ability to function normally even faster. The hospital told us that such things were a good sign. I didn't believe them.

He might have been able to encode new memories and make purposeful, appropriate responses to his environment, but he was in the _wrong_ environment. He couldn't remember who he was, and everyone told him that he was Kudou Shin'ichi. My parents were incommunicado, but it wouldn't have mattered even if they could have come. Seven-year-old Conan couldn't be 17-year old Shin'ichi, but an amnesiac Kid could.

After a while, he believed it too. Barring a few personality quirks, which were "perfectly" understandable after a head injury, he became Shin'ichi, right down to finding a mystery almost everywhere he went. He solved them, too. Staying one step ahead of the law for so long must have honed his instincts.

Fortunately for him, the Black Organization had been taken down only a few weeks before his accident; I had only been waiting for Haibara to use what salvageable pieces of her research remained to synthesize a cure. She found it two months after he unknowingly usurped my life.

Kid had always been a lucky bastard.

From the outset, I couldn't have claimed my life back without causing a lot of pain and confusion to just about everyone. It wouldn't have done any good later on, either. Not an option. Here in Japan only Agasa, Haibara, and Heiji knew that Kid wasn't me, and there wasn't anything they could say. No one would have believed them.

I played the innocent and worried little kid for a week. Then I called Doc Agasa, and Conan left with him to go home to his parents in America. I moved into Agasa's second spare room, and called to tell my father what happened. We agreed not to tell my mother.

During those two months before Haibara found our cure, I finally discovered the identity of my rival-no-longer due to a missing person's report circling the police stations for one Kuroba Kaito. It had always been bad enough seeing myself from a third-person point of view, but it was almost worse to see my face grinning at me with an even wilder hairstyle and personality.

Two months was all it took to research everything available about him, since I couldn't leave the house and had nothing else to occupy my time. After I discovered his address, a late night visit courtesy of Doc Agasa's inventions gave me even the information that _wasn't_ available. When it came to his night job, he was meticulous—heist plans, consequences, takes, and returns, all recorded with the occasional revealing personal note written in the margins. I'm sure he learned from the best, his predecessor, because I found journals of _his_, too.

I'm a detective, a student of human nature, so once I knew all of this about Kid—Kaito—it was simple enough to get into his head. And when I did, I couldn't stay angry with him.

We'd both had jobs thrust upon us that required seeing through. I had been lucky enough to bring mine to an end. He hadn't. And now, he couldn't. But he had been risking his life every heist night, because he knew it was important.

The Kaitou Kid was gone. Even back to 17 years old, I couldn't replace him. Not only did stealing jewels go against everything in my nature, but I was smart enough to know I couldn't hope to pull off a heist with his trademark flair. The best I could do was modify my voice, and reassure a worried mother that her son was still alive. Kaito's mother was a strong woman, and it seemed she trusted her boys implicitly. She believed me when I said that I would come home again after I had taken care of things. I didn't even have to tell her what "things"; like I suspected, she already knew. She also promised to make up a lie to tell Aoko, knowing "I" wouldn't have wanted her to worry.

Kudou Shin'ichi, however, had connections and resources that Kuroba Kaito lacked. As long as I didn't appear in two public places at once, I could call in favors and gain access to jewels without even having to steal them first. I didn't take up his mantle, but I did take up his job.

Months of searching later, I found the Pandora jewel. With a feeling of deep, heartfelt satisfaction, I crushed it into dust and scattered the remains to the wind and sea. As an afterthought, I added a prayer for the dead and for the forgotten.

I had consulted with my father about what I was going to do next, but swore him to secrecy. He agreed it was better this way for everyone, even my mother. She didn't have to know.

Haibara's hacking skills replaced Kaito's fingerprints at the police station (taken once as a joke, I think) with mine. And a John Doe was admitted to the hospital for collapsing in the middle a crowded street—heatstroke is simple enough to cultivate if you know how it works—to be identified as Kuroba Kaito. It was amazing how easy impersonating him was when I didn't bother to comb down my hair, which is one big cowlick. I knew his personality, had every personal detail there was to know recorded in my photographic memory, and in my downtime while jewel-hunting had even learned enough magic to get by using his trademark tricks.

I mentally blessed whoever was considerate enough to allow my "mother" to come see me first, alone. Looking at her, it hurt to see the gray hairs and stress lines that I was sure wouldn't have been there a year ago, even though she had known "me" to be alive after those first two months. She squeezed me until I couldn't breathe, but I couldn't begrudge her that. I told her most of the truth, and she told me how she had explained my absence to everyone else.

We went home, and I began my new, old life.

So. Hi. My name is Kuroba Kaito, née Edogawa Conan, née Kudou Shin'ichi.

I'm a magician, although I don't show off as much as I used to. My friends think that whatever happened when I disappeared for nearly a year, helping a friend in trouble, matured me a bit. Hakuba held some suspicions for a while, but he seemed to eventually accept the quirks that returned home with "Kaito". Now that the Kid has disappeared again, he might actually admit we can be friends. I've gone from having one detective friend to another. I'm not sure whether or not I'm relieved.

I've even gone from having one female childhood friend to another, and she was Kaito's crush, too. The first day I was back she nearly cracked my ribs with the force of her hug, so it seems the attraction was mutual. I would almost feel sorry that he never really knew, if it weren't for the fact that _he_ currently has the girl who used to be mine. Almost mine, at least. As I get to know Aoko, though, I think I can see why he liked her. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of Ran. As I adjust to this life, I think I could quickly develop a crush of my own.

As the days pass, my old lives seem more and more like dreams—or in the case of Conan, a nightmare. Some of my memories feel like they're fuzzing. Maybe, if I call myself Kaito long enough, _I'll_ start believing that I'm him, too.

But you know, unless Kudou Shin'ichi suddenly and unexpectedly unlocks the barred areas of his memories...

Would that really be so bad?

* * *

First time writing Shin'ichi's POV. Tell me whether or not I was successful?

Ocianne

10/06


	2. The Fifth Stage

Right, then. For all those who wanted to see this continued – the plotbunnies hijacked my brain from CN II and churned out this. It might not be what you expected, but enjoy anyway.

Previous disclaimers apply.

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The Fifth Stage

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The Tokyo Metropolitan Police's New Year's party was already in full swing when Heiji arrived—alone, because Kazuha was stuck in Osaka with the flu. She'd insisted that he go without her, because he'd promised to attend back when a party in Tokyo had sounded better than the party with the Osaka police force and Oni Heizo's presence. And she'd be calling Ran in the morning, so he had to actually make a real appearance.

Heiji circled around the edges of the crowded hall, exchanging greetings with what seemed like half the Tokyo Police force, since he'd worked with most of them on and off for the past few years. Scanning the dance floor netted him Kid and Ran's position, and he headed for the buffet-appetizers table to wait for the song to end so he could say hi and prove he'd made it. How long he'd _stay_, now… that depended on how long he could stand feeling like a third wheel.

On the way over he ran across the Takagis, Miwako already slightly buzzed and happily hanging onto her husband's arm. She exclaimed how well Heiji was growing up, and he really ought to finally come to Tokyo permanently to work with Kudou-kun, since there were still enough cases in Tokyo to keep both of them in work as private detectives and it was a shame to waste how well they could work together by staying in separate cities…

He smiled politely at them both and quickly escaped to the corner of the room with food, keeping his eyes on the ground to avoid running into any more acquaintances.

Since Heiji had arrived a bit late, most people had already been and gone through the refreshments, leaving the area mostly deserted except for a few loners milling about. Heiji picked his way along the setup, ignoring the people around him, until he turned away from the table and nearly ran over a very familiar face… which had absolutely _no_ right to there and not on the dance floor.

"Kudou!?"

At Heiji's muted exclamation, blue eyes under semi-tamed brown spikes looked over, and then blinked.

"Ah, Hattori Heiji-kun, right?"

Kudou—the _real_ Kudou, who he damn well hadn't seen in almost _two years_, since the idiot had disappeared to finish Kid's work with no warning and nothing left behind but a note asking Heiji to "Take care of Miyano and them and don't try to find me"—jerked a thumb sideways over his shoulder, where his look-alike was dancing with Ran near Hakuba Saguru and a girl Heiji didn't recognize.

"I've gotten that once or twice tonight already. You're looking for perky, over that way. I'm Kuroba Kaito."

Heiji forced his jaw to keep from dropping. "You..."

_Where the hell have you been, and why didn't you even tell me you were ALIVE?_

Kudou gave him a smile that seemed to hold no regrets. "It's an honest mistake. We're a lot alike, from what I've heard, and you two are friends, right?"

Heiji narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. Have been for years, ever since his cousin lived with Ran-kun for a while."

_React, you bastard. Don't tell me you've forgotten too, because I won't believe it._

No flinch. "Edogawa-kun—he was the one who used to chase Kid occasionally." Kudou grinned. "I was a big fan, before Kid disappeared again. I don't think he's really dead, just found what he was looking for and moved on."

"Kaito, are you going on about Kid again?" A young woman their age, oddly similar to Ran but with slightly wilder hair—the girl Hakuba had been dancing with before the music stopped, Heiji's memory helpfully pointed out—came and tucked herself against Kudou's side, smiling at Heiji as Kudou slid an arm around her waist like it belonged there. "Hello, I'm Nakamori Aoko. My father works with Chief Inspector Chiaki."

"Hattori Heiji, private detective." The response was automatic as Heiji desperately tried to make sense of the world again. Two damn years of nothing, and now this. "I..."

"Ah, Hattori-kun. I wasn't sure if you would be here, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, given who you know." Hakuba Saguru, the king of smarm, was oddly... not, as he smiled at Kudou and was greeted with the familiarity of an old friend, then looked over at Heiji. "I heard you still work out of Osaka, these days."

"Um, yeah..." His eyes darted between Kudou and Hakuba a few times. "You're still in Tokyo, then?"

"Yes, I work private cases and consult with the Police force from time to time, with Kaito-kun's assistance."

"Hey!" Kudou protested. "I signed on as a full partner, you prat."

"Yet you leave me to do all the paperwork. Kaito-kun, why don't you and Aoko-kun go and introduce yourselves to Kudou-kun and Mouri-kun before another song starts? I don't believe you've officially met before, and I doubt he's noticed you, yet. Perhaps you and two will discover a great-grandfather held in common."

Kudou laughed. "Are you sure you want to risk having another friend with some of my genes, Saguru-kun?"

"I'm sure I'll be able to handle it," the blond replied dryly. "I'll join you shortly, but I wish to compare some statistics with Hattori-kun between Osaka and Tokyo."

"Workaholic. If you haven't made it over in fifteen minutes, we're kidnapping you. Come on, Aoko." Kudou grinned and moved off, Nakamori on his arm.

Heiji tore his eyes away from tracking his once-best-friend and rounded on Hakuba—but anything he might have planned to say was shut down when Hakuba, very quietly, murmured, "You know, don't you?"

This time, Heiji's jaw _did_ drop.

"You... he..." Heiji sputtered briefly, then grabbed Hakuba and forced him to an area out of earshot from the majority of the party's guests. "If you've known, why the _hell_ haven't you said anything?"

Hakuba's smile was oddly bittersweet. "Because Shin'ichi-san has showed no signs of even minimal recovery from his trauma-induced memory-loss, and when Kaito-kun returned home after eight months absence, he was... very fragile. I didn't want to risk breaking him, by denying him the life he'd run to when he couldn't return to the one he'd left behind. Or perhaps _wouldn't_ would be more accurate, because Mouri-kun and Shin'ichi-san were happy together."

…Hakuba, Heiji noted absently, was doing the whole first-names-to-distinguish-between-identities thing that he'd started doing himself, after it had become clear that Kid wasn't going anywhere. Not-Kudou was obviously Shin'ichi, and apparently for Hakuba, not-Kuroba had turned into Kaito. The real Kid would have been, and stayed, Kuroba, or Heiji would eat his hat.

The blond nodded across the room, to where the other four were talking, laughing. "That's the sign of truly caring for someone, isn't it? Esteeming their happiness above your own. He wouldn't return, because it would have hurt all three of them, and their families besides." Hakuba sighed. "Not to mention himself. How many times can a person uproot and remold his entire self, without ruining the clay?"

Hakuba had a point. It didn't mean Heiji had to _like_ it.

"Yeah, but..."

"But why couldn't he contact you, even once?" Hakuba returned his surprised look with a melancholy smile. "I suspect that at first, his new identity was too tenuous. He couldn't afford to divide himself like that and not break. Later... I'm still uncertain what happened. A few months after his return, not long past high-school graduation, it was almost as if someone had flipped a switch and he had accepted that he could _be_ Kaito-kun. He asked Aoko out on an official date, and... he laughed again, and sounded like he meant it." Hakuba shrugged, eyes going back to the two pairs of their friends. "Seeking you out during the last six months, outside of a chance meeting like tonight, would have been the same as tacitly rejecting the new life he'd been able to make."

"...Damn it."

"It still hurts. I know." Heiji followed Hakuba's gaze and realized that the blond was watching Kid, not Kudou, with more than a hint of wistful regret. "We're the acceptable casualties."

Heiji eyed Hakuba askance. He hadn't had time to really think about it before now, but Kudou being who he was, and seeming to know Hakuba so well... "You two were friends, before Ki—Kuroba-kun disappeared?"

"A better term might have been friendly rivals. We weren't..." Hakuba sighed again. "There were complications."

"That's an understatement if I ever heard one."

"Mmm. He and Aoko-kun have been friends since childhood, and when I transferred into their class, being friendly with Aoko-kun meant spending time in his company, as well. I accused him of being Kid, once. He proved me wrong and retaliated by dying my hair purple, but... while the fact that I chased his idol kept a fairly continuous argument between us, you could say we were friends of a sort, before he disappeared."

...Except that Kuroba _had_ been Kid, and if Hakuba hadn't figured that out regardless of Kuroba's apparent alibi, Heiji would eat his hat for a second time, without soy sauce. And yet he'd still befriended Kuroba to some extent... until both obsession and friend had vanished simultaneously, and then never come back.

"...This sucks."

Hakuba chuckled, but without any derision in his voice. "You have such a way with words, Hattori-kun."

Heiji leaned against the wall, watching Kudou and Kuroba. Kudou looked over and caught his eye and waved, beckoning. Kuroba followed Kudou's attention and grinned when he saw Heiji, mirroring the gesture. Heiji held up his hand in a 'one minute' signal, and glanced at Hakuba. "So, you're just gonna let it go?"

Hakuba shrugged. "It does no good to say anything, at this point. As much as possible, I've… tried to allow the illusion to become the new reality, as they have." He gave Heiji a wry smile. "It's not easy, but it was all that seemed to be left."

Heiji sighed. "Yeah. …Ku—" No, dammit, if this was going to work, he was going to have to get the names _right_, even if that meant switching to way more familiar terms than even he usually went for, "—Kaito-san and Nakamori-kun are happy together?"

"Very. It's horribly cliché, but they light up whenever they see or hear from each other."

"I guess… that's good, then." A crooked smile tugged at Heiji's lips. "Shin'ichi-kun's planning to propose to Neechan right after midnight. He dragged Kazuha 'n' me through half of Shibuya three weeks ago, to find the perfect ring."

"I'm certain she'll be thrilled. She's been waiting a very long time."

"…Yeah. Yeah, she has." And Heiji knew he'd rather walk in front of a truck than break Ran's heart. He suspected Hakuba felt the same about Nakamori.

Still…

He wasn't letting Kudou—Kaito, he corrected mentally—disappear again, not completely. Maybe he'd changed, but that was what people did. Heiji could live with it, as long as Kaito was _there_.

"They seem to be hitting it off pretty well," he commented casually, turning back to face Hakuba. "It looks like you might have Shin'ichi-kun hanging out at your office in the future."

Hakuba smiled, a real one that reached his eyes for the first time that night. "It seems I might. If Kaito-kun is amenable to the idea, I may also ask Shin'ichi-san if he'd be interested in joining our partnership." The smile sharpened, just a little. "I would consider extending the same offer to you, were you not still based out of Osaka."

Hakuba was definitely a much better man now than the smug teen that Heiji and Kudou had met at the fake detective koshien, back before everything went insane. Heiji grinned back.

"You know, Miwako-keiji was just telling me earlier tonight that I ought to reconsider working out of Tokyo rather than Osaka. I'd need to find an affordable place to live, but a partner to double-check conclusions with can be damn useful sometimes."

"Hey, no way! I've been trying to get you to Tokyo for forever!" Heiji startled at Kur—Shin'ichi's voice a few feet a way, and looked over to see him and Ran approaching with Kaito and Nakamori.

Kaito grinned at Hakuba. "Your fifteen minutes are up, so consider yourself kidnapped."

"You too, Heiji-kun," K—Shin'ichi declared with a matching grin. "Ran and I were wondering if you'd ever show up, and when you got here you just started talking shop. You're violating the spirit of the party."

"I'm afraid that is my fault, not Hattori-kun's," Hakuba interjected, then added, "Good evening, Mouri-kun. You look beautiful tonight."

She smiled at him. "Good evening, Hakuba-kun. Thank you."

"Kuroba-kun was telling us a little bit about you, Hakuba-kun, but I don't think we've officially met before. I'm Kudou Shin'ichi." He held out a hand for a Western-style handshake.

If the lack of recognition hurt, Hakuba gave no sign as he shook hands. "Please, call me Saguru." His lips quirked a little. "Not enough people use my given name, and I suspect we'll get to know each other well, given our profession and mutual friends."

"Call me Shin'ichi, then," came the good-natured reply. "Were you serious about that partnership offer?"

"I've loosely followed your career," Hakuba admitted. "You're quite good. However, given the nature of our work… you've already been rather unfortunately acquainted with the dangers of operating alone."

Shin'ichi smiled ruefully, fingers brushing the hair that covered a bullet furrow's scar. "There's a reason why I tend to consult with the police rather than take private cases."

Heiji blinked. He'd never really though about that before, but it was true. He easily had twice as many civilian consults as Shin'ichi in any given time frame, when they talked and compared caseloads. And Shin'ichi had been asking him about coming up to live in Tokyo every other month or so for about a year.

Damn. He was an idiot.

Hakuba replied, "A sensible precaution for the circumstances," and then Kaito spoke up from where he'd been watching the conversation so far.

"Are you interested in working with a partner, then?"

Shin'ichi smiled. "Definitely. It's nice to have someone to compare notes with." He glanced over at Heiji. "And are you really thinking about moving to Tokyo?"

…The guy sounded too damn happy about the prospect, for how sporadic Heiji had been with their friendship of the past year and a half.

"...Yeah. If Hakuba-kun and Kaito-san don't mind having an unlucky number in their business, I think I've been in Osaka long enough."

As a grin nearly split Shin'ichi's face, Kaito declared, "But we're four of a kind, Hattori. Four kings is practically a guaranteed win in poker."

Heiji chuckled. Maybe they could actually make this work. "You've obviously never played Shin'ichi-kun and Neechan."

The mirror images looked at each other with matching speculative gleams.

Shin'ichi spoke first. "I declare poker night when Heiji-kun makes it back up to go apartment hunting. I'm hosting."

Kaito grinned. "You're on."

"You don't play for money, I hope," Hakuba said to Heiji.

"Nah, mostly coffee, chocolate, and pocky. I don't want to owe Neechan the national debt."

Nakamori lit up. "Oh! You play, too?"

Ran blushed a little, but smiled. "Yes, and our friend Shiho-chan and Heiji's girlfriend Kazuha-chan join us when they can."

Kaito grinned. "Ooh, more fresh blood."

"Kaito!" Nakamori exclaimed, but she was laughing.

"What?" Blue eyes turned to her, all innocence.

She shook her head at him, smiling. "You owe me a dance, and this is a good song."

He took her hand and bowed. "As my lady commands." He turned back to the others. "Call Saguru-kun when you're back in Tokyo, Hattori, and we'll come up for poker and talking logistics."

Heiji smiled. "Sure. Kazuha should be feeling better by next week."

"Then we'll see you around the party, until the countdown. Oh, and Saguru-kun?" Kaito paused in leading Aoko away and glanced over his shoulder, eyes sparkling with amusement. "It was a great-great-grandfather. Himura Kenji."

The look on Hakuba's face was priceless.

* * *

Love it, hate it—Don't forget to review, and preferably leave reasons for whichever you think. Another short from this universe just might jump me.

Also, despite the reference to Rurouni Kenshin, this doesn't share a universe with the fic 'Family'. The bunnies just won't leave the idea alone.

Ocianne

6/09

Addendum: The event just after high school that Hakuba refers to can be found in the first chapter of The Way Home. Happy reading!


	3. Truth

A Shin'ichi fic, in honor of May 4th.

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_Truth_

* * *

_What do you do when the past catches up to you, but there is no going back?_

He should have known better than to go up to the roof. He really should have. But he is considered the faster runner, so he chases after the fleeing mugger while his partner ensures that the man's victim isn't otherwise hurt.

It isn't fair. Muggers are supposed to run until they're caught, disappear into the crowd or reach a getaway vehicle. They _aren't_ supposed to abandon the ground in favor of a fire escape.

_-Heights are my territory_.- Except they aren't, there's no reason for the echo of half-feeling besides his habit of always finding somewhere to perch rather than somewhere to sit. He hates open heights, or at least rooftops, which are usually all the open heights to be found in Tokyo. Trees, especially the tree in his backyard, don't count.

But there is no time to think about what's on the other end of the fire escape when the mugger jumps onto it in a semi-impressive display of acrobatics. There is only the chase, following his quarry upward with an ease that makes the man curse, until they do reach the top of the five-story apartment building.

That is when it all goes insane.

He is used to rooftops summoning a whisper of unease, like the fear of the dark he's never actually had. But there is something about _this _one: the moment it sinks in where he is, his feet freeze on the smooth concrete tiles, and his lungs start working double-time without his permission.

He doesn't want to be here.

The feeling is illogical, and a hindrance he can't afford with the mugger now trying the stair access door. Through sheer force of will, he ignores the growing, swirling feel of unnamed dread declaring in blazing neon letters across the back of his skull that this is a Bad Idea, and takes a step forward. His ineffectual shouted order to stop running only sends the man to the far side of the roof in search of escape.

-_You don't want to stand there.-_

There is no second way down. Pivoting back to face him with all the danger of a cornered wild animal, the mugger pulls a gu—a knife, which isn't that surprising, since guns are illegal in Japan, so why can't he shake the certainty that the man should have pulled a gun?

There is nothing more to say, nothing for him to do but stand guard in front of the fire escape as the man advances toward him, eyes alight with desperation. Retreat is impossible, asking for a blade between the ribs, but it still takes all his will to stay put in the face of the hindbrain-level command to be anywhere but here.

"Move, boy, or I'll gut you."

"…No." He's trembling visibly, but not from fear of the knife or the man. Darkness swirls up around him that has nothing to do with absence of light, the kind in which there prowl Bad Things—

_-And unless you get away Right Now, rightnowawayrightNOW it's __**coming**__…-_

The man lunges, knife aimed—he doesn't see where, because he is already moving, Tae Kwon Do's fluid counters ingrained far below the level of conscious thought. He has done this one before, in practice, though not often, because he's never liked it for some irrational reason—but not irrational now, as familiarity flows over him like coal-black oil. Sound dims, sight dims, and all that remains is movement in the dark, taking momentum and using it to throw the body over his hip… so close to the bearing wall that over his hip means over the side of the building, as well.

As the feel of empty air sinks in, sound is still gone and vision goes… oddly fragmented. There's daylight sky, there, but also the cold, pitiless light of the moon as well, and his bare hands are gloved and his scar hurts like it hasn't since the hospital. All he dearly, desperately wants is to be away, away, away, away… except running _from_ somewhere also involves running _to _somewhere, and the farther his mind runs the closer he gets until some invisible line is crossed, and when the dam breaks the sudden rush of memory is a crashing flood. He doesn't want to know what he forgot any more, because it's right here now and he knows and doesn't want to know, and oh kami-sama he HURTS…

It doesn't register that he's sunk to the ground, rocking, until solid warmth in the form of two strong arms breaks through the void of –_OhshitgetitAWAY–_ to wrap around him from the side, supportive but not confining.

"It's okay. You're okay. The bastard's alive, I caught him from the fire escape on the way down. All he's got is a dislocated shoulder and maybe some bruised ribs. Just breathe, nice and easy, it's okay, breathe…"

He knows that voice, though the tone of urgent concern is foreign, and latches on to its odd familiarity as the dark slowly recedes. The voice is young, and male, and he wastes a moment trying to place who of the people he knows would worry about him like this. Whoever it is (-_Secret-seer_-, something whispers), he dimly realizes that this other did not bother to ask what was wrong, just started telling him what he needed most to hear. That familiarity—both his reaction to the voice and this person's disconcerting degree of understanding of him—nags at him, because he doesn't think he's ever let anyone that close. And somehow that part of him that does recognize it knows that this voice is incessantly curious and rarely worried.

Curiosity dimming the vestiges of panic, he tries to focus on his anchor, blinking until blurry vision sharpens to reveal the face of Kaito peering at him in concern—but that's not right, that can't be right, _he's_ Kaito—and the abrupt realization that being Kaito means _that_ is Kudou sends him nearly out of his skin in the opposite direction.

His companion—-_hound-partner-rival-friend-,_ the whispers contradict each other—doesn't try to stop him, though he suspects the detective could have kept him pinned with little effort. Judging by how Kaito (-_Shin'ichi?-_) feels like a limp noodle, it's the corner of the roof that keeps him from toppling over rather than his faintly trembling limbs.

He is watching Kudou's (-_Kaito's?_-) eyes from his crouch, trying to predict how the other will react and move, but at first there is nothing but sheer bewildered concern with an undertone of kicked puppy. The eyes are startlingly open compared to those of his memories, free of obscuring shadows, so he has an unexpectedly clear view when, a moment later, something in Kudou's mind suddenly seems to click.

His -_friend/not-friend_- goes pale, expression flashing quickly through not-precisely-horror and not-precisely-terror to a sort of blankness that is very definitely pain, the numb kind that comes with things like the death of family. And then even the pain is hidden as shadows flood back into those eyes, cutting off everything behind them better than any curtain and turning them at once so much more familiar to his memories and suddenly alien. That watchful, wary look is too still, somehow looking at once at and through him, and it's a moment before a flash of memory clarifies that it's the one reserved for unknown quantities with something precious and fragile trapped in their grip.

Shin—Kai—_Kid_ (-_feels right, stick to the title till names make sense-_) has never been on the receiving end of that look from this detective before. He only recognizes it because he saw it on his own face, reflected in the mirrored sunglasses of Edogawa Mamoru, when the man came to pick up Conan. Conan who was Kudou, memory insists, but that hurts and gives him a headache because—

-_Shin'ichi, this is your cousin, Conan-kun.- _The child's face flashes in his mind's eye, looking at him with a combination of dismay, anger, pity, and a very healthy dose of _lost_, before the boy turns and walks away without a word. It pulled at something in him, then, because even though the others wrote off the snark and odd possessiveness and aloofness in turns as childish jealousy of an interloper, all he really could ever see was the crushing weight of _lost_ in those eyes, a kindred sense of _adrift_, even if for reasons other than his own blank slate.

He never had a chance to find out those reasons, before his cousin effectively dropped off the face of the planet (-_and Kudou never came back, because _he_ is Shin'ichi, but he's also Kaito and the memories are slipping through mental fingers like a sieve-)._ But he remembers that last look Conan gave him, the same sort of bewilderment seen not a minute ago, and oh Kami he's _confused._

As he stares at his not-quite-reflection (-_broken mirror, but who's reflecting whom?-_), all he can think to do is ask, voice cracking slightly, "Who… _are_ we?"

Kudou's eyes close an instant too late to hide a flash of pain, and Kid is suddenly struck by the gut-twisting sense he's just seen a blade strike home—an invisible sword of Damocles he hadn't realized existed until after his own words inadvertently severed its thread. He sags back against the wall-corner behind him as mixed memory-feelings rise and fall in swells of churning non-answers. All he can decide for certain is he _doesn't like_ the raggedness (-_tattered wings-) _radiating from his… _his._ Detective, maybe, they're both that now, no matter who they were. And… lately, he thinks they've been…

"Friends, I hope?" he ventures, a bit more tremulous and plaintive than he'd planned, but this is _important. _No matter who they are/were/have been, _all _of him values the unexpected camaraderie that's emerged from the world having shattered and resettled around them. He wants to _keep_ it (_-friend-laughter-brother-in-arms-strength-trust-_) with such sudden urgency that faint panic stirs at the possibility he might have accidentally destroyed (-_lost!-_) this priceless thing without ever having had a chance to appreciate it properly.

The detective's eyes snap open as though he's been hit in the head with a two-by-four instead of a question. Kid can't help a breath of relief and hope at the way stunned surprise completely sweeps aside the earlier pain.

"You…" The voice is ragged as well, in a sort of not-_quite_-broken disbelief, and it trips off another flash of recollection of when the child's voice sounded far too similar to now for comfort. For a split-second back then, memory declares, he'd thought that he'd be dodging a thrown copy of _The Sign of Four_, but instead his offer of a soccer game was met with the book slamming shut, and Edogawa (-_Conan-_) running out of the apartment without looking back.

-_Conan-kun! I'm sorry, Shin'ichi, I'll go talk to him. Just… stay here, don't go running off again.-_ It's the second time he's heard the female voice echo in his mind, but this is the first time he actually registers who is speaking. The identity of _Ran_ (-_Not Mouri-san, never Mouri-san again-_) slots into place with a rush of emotion that knocks him off his feet despite the wall-corner's support, and he half-sprawls on the concrete and simply STARES at the detective.

"How—" his voice is cracking again. "…How could you give me" (-_life-freedom-Ran-love-_) "_so MUCH?_"

There is a very, very long silence, and Kid (-_Shin'ichi-_) cannot read the faint flickers of emotion that swirl in his doppelganger's eyes. Then Kudou—and it _is_ Kudou, false names stripped away, but it also _isn't_ anymore, because Kudou is Kaito now, and Kid isn't Kid any longer, he's Shin'ichi—slowly leans back on his hands and looks up at the clear blue sky. The voice, when he speaks, is little more than a whisper.

"Because you made Ran happy."

It is his turn for stunned silence, trying to reconcile the man before him with the boy-who-was and the boy-who-left. Nothing is as it should be, except it _is_ as it should be because this is better, far better, than the dance of masks in the moonlight… at least he thinks so. And he hopes desperately that his (-_friend-brother-other-self-_) feels the same, because there's nowhere else for them to stand anymore, the old footholds worn away to sheer cliff-face and he doesn't want to fall again (-_please no-_)…

He swallows, hard, and looks over the cliff edge into the wind that will not support him. "…Was it worth it?"

He's not expecting an odd little huff of a chuckle in response, as not-Kudou sits up and looks at him. Somehow, the fragility of the other's expression has stabilized (-_crystalline-sturdy, not glass-brittle_-) and there's a funny sort of peace in the quirk of his almost-smile.

"You tell me. We're in something of the same position now, after all."

He stares in confusion for a split-second. Then memory hits like a bullet train.

_-__**Aoko**__.-_

Images flash by, a torrent of moments Kid-Kaito held as precious—a rose beneath the clock tower, piano notes forming bright background to his magic show; mayhem and moppery on their last 'normal' day; ice cream shared in trust, even if that trust was half-falsely given; smiles that were bright and cheerful, soft and sweet, slow and sad—and as he remembers a missed birthday party and a present whose flash couldn't quite make up for being too late to celebrate with her, he thinks he just might understand.

"You… never lied to her," he murmurs haltingly, searching for the right words. "Never hurt her, even to keep her safe. But you love her, because… you _chose_ to love _her_, not a memory or a created image, when you were remaking yourself."

He did much the same, though without memories of another time to let go of before he could move on. The choice had still been his though, and standing on the far side of three years together with his now-wife… He will always love Aoko a little, he thinks, but it is easy to hold her as a sister-friend now, precious in an entirely different way from what he'd once hoped to be. He doesn't regret the choice to love Ran in the slightest.

In a funny, slightly twisted sort of way, it's worked out as well as any of them could have hoped, given the nightmare that began all this. He is Shin'ichi, without Conan and all of the baggage attached. And his friend (-_cousin_-_brother_-) is Kaito, without the existence of Kid standing as a barrier between him and the woman he loves.

"Is it worth it?" he murmurs again, but this time to himself, and this time he thinks he knows the answer. "If she can be happy, and I can be—if all four of us can be happy the way we are now—" he gives not-Kudou an inquiring look, and gets a nod of acknowledgment in return, "then… Yeah, I think it could be."

He raises an eyebrow, and there's a newly acquired faint sense of glee at _knowing_ that the other will hear the unvoiced, '_No cop-outs. Is it for you?'_

"She loved you enough to say yes," is all the response he gets. "Two years is long enough to decide if the person behind a face and name makes you happy." A pause, and then another smile. "You already know my thoughts on Aoko."

Newer memory rises to match the comment, and he laughs. "I wondered why you dragged me instead of Ha—Saguru-kun to Shibuya last month."

The automatic correction to use Saguru's first name rather than surname distracts him for a moment, but Kid's old habit settles beneath his new ones without protest—sometimes they all get odd looks for being business partners on first-name basis, but he likes it, likes the close camaraderie between them that it signifies.

"Saguru-kun had a date that night too, but yeah. It seemed more fitting to have your approval." The quirky half-grin returns. "No one knows quality gems like you, after all."

"Damn straight." The familiar banter wraps around him like a warm blanket, contentment humming through his veins, because this is who-they-_are_, not who-they-were. "But even if you'd be suckered on price on your own, I'll grant that at least you have a good idea of what she'll like."

The ring once-Kudou found is white gold, a small diamond nestled in the space between two pointed oval sapphires, like a small white flower bud with two blue leaves… or, from another perspective, two blue hands cradling something precious. Kudou-Kaito has always had a weakness for symbolism.

But, speaking of the recipient…

"We're going to have to tell them, you know," he murmurs, arms wrapping around his knees. "Now that I know… they deserve the truth."

He's lied enough, witting and unwitting both. He doesn't want to have to hide. Not from Ran.

…She's already had enough of that for one lifetime already.

There is another long pause. "…Shite. I'll dig up my running shoes."

Kaito, Shin'ichi decides as he laughs half in humor and half in nervous anticipation, has been hanging around Saguru too much.

* * *

…So. Three years after the original one-shot, a resolution arc begins. It might not be what you were expecting, or hoping for, but please chime in with your reactions and opinions in a review.

Ocianne

(5/10)


	4. Consequences

_Consequences_

* * *

There was nothing more disconcerting, Saguru discovered, than walking into the detective agency and having Kaito and Shin'ichi turn to greet him with identical disturbing grins.

The sight was not made any better by the light dusting of dove feathers in their vicinity and a bird each perched on their shoulders rather than safely tucked away in their cage behind Kaito's desk.

Shin'ichi waved, nearly displacing his tenant from its perch. "Hey, Saguru-kun! I'm teaching Kaito-kun the Bird-under-the-hat trick!"

"Of... course you are," Saguru began warily, and then the identity of the speaker sank in and he abruptly dropped into the nearest chair. And stared.

"...Kuroba?" The switch to surname was automatic, a year's worth of habit melting away. Only Kid had ever pulled off that trick, which meant…

Shin'ichi cocked his head, a more thoughtful expression replacing the cheerful grin. "Well... no. Not exactly."

Saguru buried the thrill of disappointment that accompanied Shin'ichi's denial, and kept his voice carefully neutral. "Perhaps you could explain, then."

"Right. Um." The brunet carefully moved his passenger to the white top hat that had been rummaged up from God knew where to rest on Shin'ichi's desk. Saguru waited as patiently as he could through the delaying tactic. He was not going to throttle his friends for being themselves. ... Such as those selves were. And might no longer be, entirely, if his suspicions were correct.

"I guess, to make a long story short..." Shin'ichi grimaced. "I triggered my old memories this morning by accidentally throwing a mugger off a roof. Kaito-kun caught him, and... we worked things out."

"Nothing's changed," Kaito continued. "Well, except that I'm reclaiming the Holmes First Editions from Shin'ichi-kun's library."

"And I want the journals of Harry Houdini back." Shin'ichi rubbed the back of his neck. "And we might be getting maimed by the girls, but they haven't gotten out of classes yet to be told."

Aoko and Ran both had classes at university for criminal justice and history, respectively, but barring unexpected breaks in routine they would arrive at the agency within the next half hour to kidnap their respective men for dinner.

Still processing the absurdity of it all when he'd been wishing for and dreading this moment ever since last New Year's, Saguru intelligently murmured, "Oh. No more lies?"

He'd almost gotten used to them, by now. Whole weeks could go by without him even thinking about it.

"Not with us," Shin'ichi confirmed, tone immutable. "There's been too many. Kaito-kun—and you too, I guess, if you figured it out—when _did _you figure it out, anyway?"

Saguru had to chuckle at the distractibility that stayed the same, no matter what name went with it. "High school. I... didn't wish to risk bringing harm."

"...Thank you," Kaito murmured. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just... couldn't."

Saguru nodded, favoring them both with a wry smile. "I know. And it wasn't my or Heiji-kun's place to break the illusion, if that was all that was keeping you stable."

After a moment's further thought, he added, "You'd better be planning to apologize to Heiji-kun, too. And if either of you do anything this asinine again, your worst nightmares about Aoko-kun and Ran-san's reactions will pale in comparison."

The two men both snapped to attention in perfect mimicry of a military salute, echoing "Sir, yes, sir!" together, and then looked at each other and nearly collapsed in howling laughter.

Saguru resisted smacking their heads together, because a bad case of nerves wasn't surprising given their decision to come clean to the two most important women in their lives. It still didn't stop their habit of Twinning from being just as disconcerting when done on accident as on purpose. Especially when they snickered madly in unison at the accidental ones.

Instead of cracking skulls, he shoved his reactions down to consider later and merely sighed. "You'd best clean up the feathers, Kaito-kun. You'll want to face any incoming wrath with clean surfaces." He moved onto Shin'ichi. "Put Yuki and Irene away, please, and then explain what your plan for future interpersonal relations is. If you even have one, what with how effective your deliberate self-distractions are."

The two recovered from their fit of humor with a slightly guilty tinge to the last few chuckles, and obeyed. Once the room was clean again, Shin'ichi perched on the edge of his desk while Kaito leaned against the side of his, and they exchanged a wordless glance which apparently settled that Shin'ichi would be the one to explain.

"We're going to start with Heiji-kun and the girls, though it sounds like Heiji-kun already figured it out, too. _Detectives_," Shin'ichi added, rolling his eyes with a faint grin.

"Hey, you are one," Kaito prodded, smirking.

"Yeah, but now I remember not being one, and my previous professional disdain for wreckers of art."

Saguru's eyes drifted inexorably from Shin'ichi to the doves in their cage, and he swallowed past what was definitely not a worse disappointment at the thought of breaking the status quo. "Would you rather return to being a magician, then?"

Shin'ichi's eyes widened in surprise. "What? No!" He shook his head hard enough that his hairgel nearly lost the fight against mussed cowlicks. "I like what we do, especially since only the occasional kaitou manages anything worth admiring, and we don't deal with them. I even get now why you and Heiji-kun voted me Kaito-kun's partner for all the building security stuff we get. I'm just… still processing all of it."

"Ah."

Kaito exhaled in what could have been relief. "Well, at least you're not mad."

"Yeah, he's not being verbose enough for that." Shin'ichi cocked his head, faint concern creeping into his expression. "Are you okay?"

Saguru gave the question due consideration. "...I don't know."

He was saved from further elaboration by the door abruptly opening to herald Heiji's arrival. "Case closed! No affair, she's plannin' a surprise birthday party for him and ain't as subtle as she thinks. How'd you guys do?"

Kaito and Shin'ichi exchanged guilty glances, and Shin'ichi answered, "We... kind of got distracted from the security analysis."

Heiji paused on his way to his desk. "Murder?"

"Not exactly..." Kaito hedged.

Saguru sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Shin'ichi-kun remembers."

Heiji froze. "Remembers..."

Shin'ichi offered him a bittersweet smile. "I wasn't born Shin'ichi. We just... aren't that, any more."

Heiji's gaze flew to Kaito, who echoed the same smile. "Sorry, Heiji-kun."

The Osakan's expressive face darkened slightly, and he strode over to Kaito without breaking eye contact. Kaito looked back steadily, unflinching. At least until Heiji raised a hand and smacked it hard against the back of Kaito's head, which garnered a wince.

"_That_ is for just up and running, you bastard." Before Kaito could reply, Heiji grabbed him in a short, rough hug and stepped back again. "An' that was because you were doin' it for Neechan. Even if it was dumb."

Kaito smiled wryly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." The smile softened. "And it wasn't just for her, either... Not once I realized Kid's quest was unfinished, too."

"Wait, what?" Shin'ichi came to attention, and Saguru sat up straight in his chair before he'd even realized he'd moved.

Kaito rubbed at the back of his neck, lips quirked. "It didn't seem the right time to say anything before, but… Yeah. Pandora's gone."

Shin'ichi laughed, long and joyous, amid grabbing Kaito for an exuberant noogie. "Only you, Kaito-kun."

"And good riddance," Heiji pronounced, disgusted. "Even the name sounds like bad news. What was it?"

"Supposedly, it shed tears of immortality beneath the Volley Comet."

"Ahh…" Saguru hissed, pieces falling into place. "Why the moon, then? I held God knows how many private collections to the moon before you came… home, but I was never certain exactly what I was looking for."

Both men looked at him in surprise.

"You were looking?" Kaito asked.

"Even after I was gone?" Shin'ichi added.

Saguru gave them both a look_._ "Yes, you bloody idiot, _especially_ after you were gone. Until Kaito-kun came back."

"Not after, though?" Kaito looked half-hopeful that Saguru hadn't been stuck on a wild goose chase that Kaito could have ended, and half-guilty at the idea that he _had_.

In truth, his focus had merely switched to prioritize Kaito's well being, and keep a surreptitious eye on Shin'ichi once he'd realized the truth of what had happened. He'd _hoped_ that Kaito's reappearance without Kid meant that Kid's quest was over, but he was a detective. Detectives didn't assume.

"Only as a matter of convenience."

"Oh. Good." There was a wealth of information in that single word—"Thank you" and "I'm sorry" at the very least. Saguru inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"We're here!" The sudden call of Ran's voice jolted them all out of the current conversation, and both Kaito and Shin'ichi went slightly pale as their significant others swept through the door.

The women paused, and frowned, and Aoko's hands settled onto her hips. "What happened?"

Kaito and Shin'ichi exchanged glances again. "...You'd better sit down."

"I hate it when you say that," Ran commented, lightly kissing Shin'ichi on the cheek before she and Aoko made themselves comfortable in the chairs of their respective man's desk. "It usually means someone tried to kill you. Again."

Kaito coughed lightly. "We did have a slight run-in with a mugger, but he's been arrested. That's not what we need to talk to you about."

Aoko crossed her arms, frown deepening. "All right, then. Spill."

The agony of silence hung in the air for several long seconds, and then Shin'ichi admitted in a rush, "Igotmymemorybacktoday."

Lips moved for a few seconds as parsing took place, and then Ran merely blinked. "All of it?"

Shin'ichi nodded. "It's... not what you might expect. I'm sorry."

Ran folded her hands, a picture of placidity. "Go on."

He swallowed, gaze darting between her and Aoko. "Until I woke up in the hospital, I was Kuroba Kaito. And I wound up there because I was Kaitou Kid."

They seemed to have no immediate reply, which worked out well enough because Shin'ichi plunged onward, "I'd gambled that if anything happened to me, Kudou would be curious enough to keep me from being properly arrested before I'd regained consciousness enough to talk—when I'd also be able to get away. But when I woke up the way I did, Kaito-kun… let me be Shin'ichi, because…"

Shin'ichi trailed off and looked at Kaito. "Why? You said it could be worth it, but not why you let it go in the first place."

Kaito's lips twitched at the corners, more bittersweet than amused. "Because at the time, I was still poisoned into—" he glanced at Ran and winced, "—Conan. And my resident mad scientist said that if I took one more temporary cure before the permanent antidote could be developed, I'd die from heart failure before I could stay grown for good."

Saguru noticed that Ran's eyes seemed to gain a faint gleam, but she didn't interrupt Kaito.

"It was true. I nearly had a heart attack anyway, when we finally got a true antidote. But that _was_ later, and at the time… I didn't even have a ballpark estimate for how long before I could go home and get my head kicked in the way I deserved." Kaito shook his head with a sigh. "And then there was the fact that if I got, say, Heiji-kun or my father to disclaim your identity, you'd be bound for handcuffs and either a little white room or a jail cell. I didn't… I didn't want that blood on my hands."

Kaito paused, eyes unfocused in recall, and smiled sadly. "What really made the decision, though, was Ran." His voice softened, and even though he was nominally talking to Shin'ichi, the words were for her. "She _wanted _you to be Shin'ichi. All her old suspicions about Conan, all the memories of who I was… When she looked at you, she saw Shin'ichi, and she was _happy._"

Kaito's voice dropped to a whisper. "How could I destroy her smile for another damn 'Wait for me, I'll come home someday'?"

In the silence that followed, Ran and Aoko's faces gave little away, but their eyes looked suspiciously wet. Kaito himself seemed to be blinking more than usual.

"Maybe it wasn't logical, but I was always stupid when it came to her. So when all my options came down to hurting someone one way or another, I picked me. And left." He took a deep breath, sighed. "I found out about Kaito, told Mom that Kaito wasn't dead, finished Kid's business because he couldn't, and… tried to see if Kaito was a shape I could lose my old self in."

He finally looked over enough to meet Aoko's eyes, and then Ran's. "…I'm sorry. You'd had enough lies from us in the first place, I'm sorry for caging you in more. I just… didn't know what else to do."

Saguru choked back a laugh at Aoko's immediate response: to stand up and grab her boyfriend in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered. "Ran-chan and I got most of the basics right, but it means a lot to hear it from you."

The two men stared. Ran rose and wrapped her arms around Shin'ichi, as well. "Policeman's daughters, who grew up surrounded by detectives. It… took time, but especially after we met each other again, there were clues for us to figure out… enough of what happened."

"Enough?" Shin'ichi inquired weakly.

Aoko smiled sweetly at him. "Enough to not drag you both into a dark alleyway and threaten the truth out of you."

"Especially since you didn't know," Ran added, hugging Shin'ichi a little tighter.

"And I remember… how awful you looked when you finally came home," Aoko told Kaito, whose face seemed frozen in stunned surprise. "It doesn't mean it didn't _hurt_, when we were first realizing, and you both owe us a lot of nice dinners to make up for it…"

"But we weren't the only ones hurting," Ran finished. "I do hope you apologized to Saguru-kun and Heiji-kun. What we have together now isn't what we would have expected or hoped for when we were younger, but… it's still good."

Aoko nodded. "We can't go back. ...I don't know if I would even want to." She smiled. "We've found happiness here and now. How could we dream of losing that to an abyss of what-ifs?"

"This is why I love you," Kaito murmured, even as Shin'ichi pulled Ran close for a kiss.

"Hey, Saguru-kun," Heiji reminded when their friends seemed to demonstrate no need for any actual air, "You owe me 2000 yen."

"Oh. Bugger." Saguru dug out his wallet and found the necessary cash, acutely aware of the looks he was getting as the happy couples broke apart to blink at the exchange.

"You bet on whether the girls had figured it all out?" Kaito demanded, sounding aggrieved.

"Nah," Heiji answered, accepting the bills. "We bet on whether you two'd survive telling them the truth in one piece."

The two turned wounded looks (exaggerated, as it was _them_) on Saguru, and he felt his cheeks start to burn. "I was feeling pessimistic that day."

"You didn't think we could talk our way into staying intact?" Shin'ichi smiled winsomely at Ran before either woman could take offense. "Not that we would have escaped without the benefit of your good will."

Saguru shook his head. "I… didn't think it would ever become a relevant concern." He tried to smile. "Like I said, it was a pessimistic day."

Shin'ichi disentangled from Ran and approached Saguru's chair, blue eyes soft in apology as he laid a hand on Saguru's shoulder. "I'm sorry I left. And I'm sorry I didn't feel safe trusting you."

Saguru swallowed. "It wasn't on purpose. ...Nor had I done anything to prove myself worthy of your trust."

The hand squeezed his shoulder, gently. "Well, you have it now. And I'm different, but… the old me is in here, too." A sudden grin, bursting with _joie de vivre_ in a way Saguru hadn't seen in three years. "I even remember tie-dyed boxer shorts that originally had little magnifying glasses on them."

"Kur—_Shin'ichi-kun_!" Saguru grabbed his friend in a headlock with a fierce noogie, trying to ignore the way his whole face burned in embarrassment, which was made slightly easier by the fact that part of the burn was from his cheek muscles protesting at the sudden intensity of his smile.

That grin had held Shin'ichi, Kuroba, and Kid all at once, and all three had been saying _friend-we-trust._ And tease, but God help him, he'd missed even the teasing.

He had his friends. And his friends had the truth, the _whole_ truth, out in the light and it hadn't blown up in their faces.

Things would be different, Saguru supposed, as the dynamics reshaped and resettled, and there might be the occasional hiccup from unexpected behaviors or memories, but in the end it would be _better_.

He couldn't wait to see it.

~End.

* * *

And that's all she wrote, folks. Thanks for your patience through this decidedly odd AU jaunt. Please review!

Ocianne

8/11


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